The Score
by Ce Matin-La
Summary: "I would barely be exaggerating if I told you Medusa wants her withering glare back." But it didn't turn him to stone. To be perfectly frank something always stirred within him when she threw her trademark look in his direction. Dan/Blair; one-shot. [Re-upload, originally posted in 2009].


A/N: FF removed this last year after being online since 2009 with no problems.

Dan/Blair; Some Serena; 907 words; t/pg-13; gossip girl is not mine.

**The Score**

_I would barely be exaggerating if I told you Medusa wants her withering glare back._

But it didn't turn him to stone. To be perfectly frank something always stirred within him when she threw her trademark bitch look in his direction. In a somewhat perverse way, it showed that she acknowledged his presence, even if she wasn't grateful for it. That dirty look helped Dan to realise the point when he was no longer invisible to his peers.

"Go play with your Cabbage Patch, Humphrey," she looked towards him for the briefest of moments, disdain, impatience and annoyance etched onto her pretty face; her nose slightly crinkled as if she could smell that freshman who actually thought _Cheap & Chic _by _Moschino_ was a good scent. But it was just Brooklyn's finest (if there ever could be such a thing) and he smelled pretty fucking good (think: _Creed's Virgin Island Water_, if only he could afford it).

He breathed hard through his nostrils, he could feel her annoyance, and she his. He turned and headed in the other direction. She would have looked pretty had it not been for the ugly expression on her face.

_Waldorf 1 Humphrey 0_

"Do know what your problem is, Blair?"

"That's an easy one, it's people like _you_."

"If only. It's that you honestly think you are _queen_ of something. We're in high school, four years which will be summed up in one book that will be forgotten by most. Not by you, though. I can see it now: botoxed and still a bitch, looking through it nostalgically, wondering where it all went wrong. You're no better than the rest of us, the sooner you realise it; the better your life will be."

"But, I'm Blair!" Her eyes widen when she plays what she just said back in her head. _Idiot._

He laughs. He throws his head back and laughs. He didn't shave today, she can see his five o'clock shadow; the slight gap in his front teeth is mocking her, it makes him seem so goddamn endearing that her humiliation grows.

He walks away, still chuckling slightly.

_Waldorf 1 Humphrey 2_

Wafer-thin bone china which would break, and make that pretty tinkling sound, from his firm grasp; paisley bedspreads with thread counts that he didn't even know existed; Salvatore Ferragamo shoes; dainty-looking Jay Strongwater picture frames; over-sized linen napkins; sterling silver baby spoons (oh, the irony); Clive Christian perfume; William Yeoward vases; Nancy Gonzalez handbags; Tom Ford sunglasses (they looked good on him); La Prairie eye cream (caviar, _really now?_); Yves Saint Laurent jackets; Stefano Ricci ties...

People who shopped here were going straight to hell.

"What the fuck am I doing here?"

"I'm wondering the same thing, Humphrey. Only people of certain... _calibre_ can shop in Bergdorf's."

_Her._ _Fucking perfect._

"My sister, Jenny, is currently browsing through one of the seven circles of hell that you call a store." Classic self-righteous tone that only Dan Humphrey has managed to perfect.

"A store?" That cold, oddly-pitched laugh. "Bergdorf Goodman is the closest anyone will ever get to heaven." She turned away from him, to admire a pair of Giuseppe Zanotti boots. "And there are nine circles of hell, you moron."

_Waldorf 2 Humphrey 2_

"_Don't_ call him over, Serena."

"Blair –"

"Do _not_ call him over, Serena."

Blair was staring at her hard; it annoyed her how Serena managed to keep her cool even when she used _the look_.

Serena shrugged, golden hair reflecting in the pale sunlight. She smiled at him when he looked up from his book, she got a slight nod and a gentle quirk of the mouth back.

"I wish you both would just forget about the goddamn pleasantries. You don't even have _reason_ to speak to each other anymore."

"We're friends, Blair."

"Of course you are, S." Her voice was soft and patronising.

"My English class started ten minutes ago... steps for lunch?"

She received a shrug in response.

She was squinting, trying to decipher the lettering on the spine of Dan's book. It looked ancient, yet he was reading it with such fervour, as if he hadn't read it before. He looked up again and met her gaze. She wouldn't be the first to look away; nor would he.

_Waldorf 3 Humphrey 3_

The wind stung her cheeks, rosy from the cold air. She studied the shapes her hot breath made as she exhaled. She had wanted to feed the ducks, but had forgotten to stop in that _très mignon_ French bakery on the way to the park. All she could do now was sit on a somewhat icy bench (that a homeless person would've slept on had it not been so cold) and listen to New York.

"What are the odds?" He breathed heavily through his nostrils, solely to emphasize his exasperation.

"Oh, Cabbage Patch, right on time to ruin my day." She looked at him, he looked scruffier than usual (she didn't think that was possible), a little tired and he was carrying that tattered book she'd seen him reading. She saw the title clearly now: _The Divine Comedy: Inferno; Purgatorio; Paradisio._

"Enjoying your book?"

She smiled.

_Waldorf 4 Humphrey 3_

He tasted like cheap coffee.

"Your mouth tastes like cheap coffee."

"Well you didn't have to kiss me."

"_I_ did none of the kissing, Cabbage Patch."

He laughed.

"Naturally."

_The score was even._


End file.
